


Featherlight

by tselinoyarsk (tselina)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tselina/pseuds/tselinoyarsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has baited the hook, and he must wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Featherlight

**Author's Note:**

> **MINOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON TWO!**
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> inspired by the following photosets (SPOILERS): [here](http://thryse.tumblr.com/post/82937416034) and [here](http://thryse.tumblr.com/post/82937488718)

Lecter's touch is featherlight. He is a ghost, after all, a phantom of constructed emotion and meaning. Will does not pull away, though inside he churns with momentary revulsion: these hands are hunters, with their deceptive softness, even the callouses gentle. Not a wolf in fleece, but a tiger, solitary and languid, in the skin of the men it feasts upon. A well-groomed predator, tie and coat immaculate, claws deftly hidden. 

Will knows that Lecter wears his Sunday best to the slaughter, exsanguinates his prey bedecked in the finest merino wool. In the here and now, he bunches the fabric of Lecter's coat in his hands to crease it, crushes it under a boot like a five-alarm rebellion as he casts it hastily to the floor. Either Lecter does not notice-- unlikely-- or he does and does not care-- likely-- because now he thinks Will is willingly, undeniably his. They sink into Lecter's bed, all mouths and teeth and freshly bare skin.

This is Will's power, here in Lecter's own rooms, his weapon against the beast: Lecter's wicked affection for him, smothering and strong. He lights a flame in Lecter that does not smolder, something Will knows is new for the older man, frightening and honest. And for Will to consent, to forgive him, to bless him with soft gasps and glistening skin, Lecter will allow himself a sliver of weakness. It is that weakness that Will uses now, with his lips open and body pliant, to snare Lecter on his line and drag him to the gallows.

Lecter pulls away from Will, pulls open a bedside drawer, and Will is certain it is perfectly arranged as is the rest of Lecter's world. He lies back on the soft sheets as Lecter prepares him and realizes how strange it is to be surrounded with such opulence. Will has never in his life bothered or cared for the finer things: function before form. He wonders where Lecter got his taste: not for flesh, but for decadence. Lecter owns so much, has so much, does so much, as if it could fill the empty pit where his soul should be. But now, with Lecter pressed inside of him, Will is suddenly his only possession, worldly and whole, dear and clutched ever-so-close to his chest.

Will allows himself to enjoy the pleasure Lecter gives him because the fool inside of him hungers for it. It is but a movement of a grander dance. It began as touch and the lack of it, to both indulge the senses and deprive them. Will is weak for it, has always been, with the almost moments of before, the heady rush of tension as Lecter placed a hand on his knee, his neck, his face. There is the whisper of danger in this joining, too, the shiver of gunmetal, the fluttering feeling of Lecter's death at Will's fingertips. Now, between them, there is at last a small death, poetic and feverish, long and lethal fingers tangled in Will's hair, Will's name a breathless, loving song.

Lecter arranges them dutifully among Egyptian cotton, checking as always for Will's comfort, and Will pillows his head against Lecter's broad shoulder like a lover would. He smiles. He knows he cannot be human to hunt Lecter. He cannot push past the boughs of the forest, trying to catch a glimpse of amber eyes and striped hide before the tiger strikes and gorges itself. He is no predator, but he can prick the beast and poison his blood, to rot the man inside and out. 

This will happen again. He has baited the hook; he must wait. And Will is a patient man.


End file.
